


The Hairdresser

by messitallup



Series: The Hairdressers!AU [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Comicbook artist!Gee, Cuties, F/M, Hairdresser!Frank, M/M, Sexy Times, hairdresser!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messitallup/pseuds/messitallup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard really, really didn't need his hair cut okay, it was fine.<br/>In his opinion anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hairdresser

**Author's Note:**

> I just had my hair cut by a really hot guy and this happened?  
> Sorry, un'betaed, but sort of proof read.  
> Enjoy :D

Gerard was panicking as he sat down in the leather seat, _he_ thought his hair looked perfectly fine thank you very much, but apparently Mikey and the rest of the wider world disagreed, and really, really didn’t want to be here.  
But Gerard and the wider world disagreed on a lot of things; such as the normal intake of coffee and cigarettes, the acceptable amount one should shower in a week, the typical amount a person should spend on comics, and a suitable noise level someone should have coming from their apartment at two in the morning, so Gerard’s opinion on this matter was obviously invalid because he was _always wrong_.

But Gerard was an _artist_ , wasn’t he and wider world mean to disagree on these kinds of things, he didn’t know. He did know he didn’t really want someone he didn’t know pocking and cutting away around his head with sharp pointy things. He had enough trouble socialising with people who had next to no chance of stabbing him in the face with a pair of scissors.

Anyway, somehow, Mikey had managed to pull Gerard out of his bed and out the door with promise of a triple shot mocha and then push into the waiting arms of the torturers. At least Mikey hadn’t tried to make him get his flu jab again this year.  
That didn’t really go down particularly well last time. Nevertheless, Gerard didn’t really think that he needed his little brother interfering with his life so much. He was a grown adult, and as much as he loved Mikey, he didn’t need reminders to get flu jabs, his hair cut or other completely unnecessary things like that – and in Gerard’s mind they were unnecessary, he didn’t see anyone really, so who really cared if his hair was longer than normal for a guy?

The hairdressers’ itself was actually a rather nice place. Gerard had been put upstairs; it was two floors, the downstairs small, beams running across the ceiling classic English style and wooden floors that made a small creaking noise when you walked across them. The place was lit by the large open windows at the front of the shop and the spot-lighting and quiet indie-rock was playing throughout the shop via small speakers placed in the corners of the upstairs room and behind the compact front desk.  
Large mirrors lined the walls, framed by rough wood and large comfy leather seats were placed in front of them, and little ledges made of the same wood used for the frame of the mirrors stuck out of the wall below the mirrors: from what Gerard could see things like the odd comb or magazine were scattered across them, but for the most part these ledges were empty.

The place wasn’t like most of the other hairdressers back home, overall it was cosy and calming, none of the hustle and bustle of the crazy chain stores he’d grown up with in New Jersey or the clinical, sterile, cold, shops he’d grown used to in California.

“Hey there, can I get you anything?” A slow drawl came from behind him; one he hadn’t heard outside of Mikey’s flat whilst he had been staying in England.  
Gerard turned round as best as he could in his chair, craning his neck to see who was speaking to him, to no avail, only to realise that he would probably be able to see them in the mirror in front of him. “Water? Tea? Coffee? Squash? Any food?”

“Umm, I guess, I mean,” He stopped and aborted that effort at the sentence before starting again, with less stuttering this time, “It would be great if… I could, um, have a coffee? Please, if it’s no trouble?”  
The guy behind him had jet black hair that swept across his face a little in a small fringe, and hazel brown eyes that shone as he smiled, accentuated by subtle eyeliner. His skin looked like it had seen days with more sun, but still glowed a little, Gerard didn’t know if that had anything to do with the shop’s lighting, which was pretty awesome, or just the fact that guy was stupidly, incredibly, amazingly attractive.

The guy’s eyes seem to twinkle with amusement as he nodded, “No problem,” He said before shouting down the stairs, “Char! This guy wants coffee!”

“What did I say about shouting in the shop, Frank?” Came the grumpy reply, as footstep could be heard traipsing upstairs. Frank ducked his head forward looking sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. Must be a nervous tick, Gerard thought to himself. “So, Frankie, have you asked what he wants done today?” Char asked Frank, her small bob flicking as she moved about the upstairs, cleaning and tidying. 

“Probably what he booked in for,” Gerard heard the guy – Frank – mutter under his breath before he turned to face Gerard, meeting his eyes in the mirror, “So, what do you want done today? Gerard right?”

“Yeah, it’s Gerard.” Hey, he didn’t stutter that time! “Umm, I wasn’t really sure, I’ve been dying my hair the same colour since high school and, I guess I just want a change? Like, quite I big one I think?”

“Awesome,” Frank smiled, eyes glimmering with mischief. Oh shit, had this been a bad idea?

“Frank, if you’re using hair-dye, I’d use enhancers because that definitely is not virgin hair. Plus, any extreme hair colour changes may need a base or bleach beforehand.” Char paused for breath, “Don’t worry, Gerard, you’re in good hands, Frank knows what he’s doing,” Char told him before she left, leaving him wondering if she had superpowers, which got Gerard thinking about how much of an awesome comic that would make, hairdresser by day, superhero by night. Or maybe a super-villain, switch side story, an antagonist-protagonist?

Gerard mentally shook himself; he’d come to England to get away from comics for a while, not to think up more, maybe he’d follow it back up when he got back home. Sighing, he settled himself down into his chair and watched Frank clatter around behind him, mixing pots of hair dye and products.

“Okay, I’m going to block colour you, and then wash, cut, dry and style, that alright with you?” Frank asked him, cocking his head slightly to one side, biting his lip, meeting Gerard’s eyes in the mirror.

“Sounds great, I mean, first time for a professional dye. God knows I used to just to a Kool-Aid dye in my mum’s bathroom sink,” Gerard giggled and blushed in embarrassment; his hair wasn’t in such a great state to be honest. Thank God he’d remembered to wash his hair this morning. This would've been so much more embarrassing if he hadn't.

“Yeah, I remember doing that too, before I moved to England.” Frank smiled and Gerard might have melted a little bit. He didn’t want to, he just had. Oh shit. “Let’s get you started then.”

Frank span round and grabbed the clear bowl of hair dye from a small stand he had been mixing the products on, reaching for a flat, wide brush, and then placed himself behind Gerard’s chair and started to apply hair dye to his head section by section.

The first touch of the brush on Gerard’s scalp felt cold and wet, making him shudder and goose-bumps jumped up all over his neck and arms. Frank frowned and looked apologetic, before continuing on, a look of concentration on his face. Gerard took the chance to study him in the mirror.

Frank had a small hole just under his mouth, which he kept absentmindedly biting at from time to time, and a small nose stud. His ears had obviously been stretched out of place by a gauge at some point. He was also very short, and Gerard was only 5’9, so that was saying something.  
His hair was styled to one side, glossy in the light, but not in a gross way.

Another thing Gerard noticed was the way Frank definitely was not gay. It was in the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way acted around others.  
Gerard knew he didn’t act massively gay; at least not all the time, but he knew that he could spot another gay guy a mile off, no matter how far back into Narnia they were. He liked to think it was a special talent of his.

Gerard resigned himself to another pointless crush as Frank moved back from his head and checked over for any un-even spreads or globs of dye.  
“Okay, we’re just gonna wait a while for the dye to set in, about 30 to 45 minutes, and then I’ll wash it out,” Frank breathed, wiping the brush on the side of the bowl of empty hair dye, staring at Gerard in the mirror, “In the meantime, is there anything that you want, a magazine, water, more coffee?”

Gerard shook his head and reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, looking at his twitter notifications should be amusing enough for a while, and he had a that new Marvel app that he could check out, he’d heard of a couple of new series he wanted to check out.

“I should be set, don’t worry about me,” Gerard smiled out of the side of his mouth, and then stopped and frowned. He hated that smile.

Inputting the password into his iPhone, he logged into his twitter account as he heard Frank go down the stairs. He couldn’t believe how many followers he’d gained in the last few months, all since the release of his new comic series.  
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t released comic series before, there had been Bullets – about the demolition lovers – which had been his first boost into fame, and then the second arc of the series, Revenge, following the man’s journey into getting his lover back through a bad deal with the Devil, which had massively increased his fan-base, but it was The Black Parade that had such a huge impact on how well known he was.  
It was crazy, being stopped in the street hadn’t happened before much, once or twice during the first release of I Brought You My Bullets, and a few times more during Three Cheers, but now, it happened at least a few times a month. It was insane. Gerard didn’t think his autograph was worth having really, but that was his opinion.

_@gerardway what’s going to happen to The Patient? Just finished the final one, another arc maybe? ;)_

Gerard sighed, he’d been getting a lot of these recently. Honestly, he didn’t know, he’d laid Mother War to rest, the Sister – Revenge and Sorrow – had also had their fill, and the Parade had been dispersed, the end had been pretty final and as the author, he felt it was over. After such a perfect finish, why would you want to ruin it to bring about something that wouldn’t fit up to the expectations?

Gerard rubbed at a his cheeks and sat back, pondering the tweet, before replying:  
 _@LucyStreep No, no more Parade, sorry guys. There are other stories right?_

He spent a while scrolling through his notifications, replying to the odd interesting one, ignoring the stupid ones, reporting the odd offensive one, sometimes giggling or smiling to himself, completely at ease alone in the upstairs of the shop.

He soon got bored with that though and set down his phone. An itch had developed on his head that he could quite get to because of the dye, dammit, and he was starting to get a bit too hot in his hoody.

To distract himself, he studied the room, it _was_ a nice place, not too cold, not too dark, not too bright, cosy, but not small. He could almost see the small kids that had sat in the chair next to his yesterday while a mother looked on, or the old man that had been having a shave cut the other day and the old lady, probably his wife, that watched on. It was the kind of place you kept coming back to, kind and calm, soothing and trustworthy.  
It would be a lovely setting, and he’d probably end up using it, or taking inspiration from it at a later date.

A little while later, Frank plodded back up the stairs with Char who checked over Gerard’s hair, and then gave Gerard the all clear to wash out the dye.

“You’re a student?” Gerard mused aloud.

“Umm, yeah,” Frank blushed and smiled sheepishly, leading him over to the hair washing station, “I’m doing a vocational degree at the local university. You don’t mind? I mean, I’m who you’re booked for.”

“No, no don’t worry, I don’t mind, I just… you seem to know what you’re doing that’s all,” Gerard said, stumbling over his words, trying not offend Frank accidentally. Frank sat him down and tucked a towel behind Gerard’s head and into his shirt.

“Yeah, I like hair, it’s a pretty cool way of expressing yourself. You can make it you, or, like, just another copy of someone else, you know? Which is kind of the same sort of thing you can do with your life, you know, make it your own, or sit in an office five days out of seven doing a job about a thousand others’ could.” Frank bit his lip, testing the temperature of the water as he spoke, adjusting it when it scalded his fingers, “I mean, this a cool job and everyone here is really nice, I mean you haven’t met Debby or Sam or Becca, but they’re all so nice and I get to meet really interesting people, and I can also do my music and go out for a drink in a nice pub once in a while and even offer to pay for the drinks!”

Gerard sighed as the water ran over his head and Frank started to massage shampoo into his hair, it felt so good.

“I mean, I’d prefer to be doing music or photography, but neither are really a stable income, you know? Plus, this is still creative in its own way, I guess. Shit, I’ve been rambling again haven’t I?”

Frank voice had faded into the background as his hands worked their magic on Gerard’s head, rubbing all the right places, smoothing out the creases in Gerard’s forehead that had planted themselves there and pretty much become a permanent fixture the past few months as a result of stress.

Gerard loved his fucking job, so why all of a sudden was it causing him so much stress?

“Yeah, you should totally tell me to shut up right now if you want,” Frank sighed, “And to stop swearing.”

“Nah man, its cool don’t worry about it,” Gerard drawled back lazily, “It’s nice.”

“Oh, okay,” Frank paused, “You’re from New Jersey?”

“Yeah, Belleville.”

“You being serious? Me too, how come I’ve never seen you before? Where’d you go?”

“School? Belleville High, the place sucked,” Gerard replied slowly, if he wasn’t careful, he’d be sent to sleep.

The water shut off and Frank pushed Gerard up back into a sitting position and wrapped a towel around his head, stopping the water from dripping.

“Queen of Peace sucked more I bet. Hey, you know Mikeyway then right?” Frank cocked his head again, raising his voice pitch at the end of his sentence, questioning Gerard.

“He’s my brother man.”

“Wait,” Frank made the connection in his mind, “You’re Gerard Way as in, mysterious brother and amazing comic book designer-slash-artist-slash-author?”

“Yeah.” Gerard looked down, uncomfortable, he didn’t think he was that amazing and certainly not good enough to warrant such a good reaction from someone so good-looking.  
If Gerard was being honest, which he was, the whole thing had been a case of his work being sent to the right place at the right time, not necessarily to do with talent. There were so many more amazingly talented comic book artists and authors out there that should’ve gotten the recognition he had, that deserved it more than he did.

Frank pushed him towards the seat again, warm hands penetrating through Gerard’s shirt and warming his back, he blushed a little, thinking about things that he was sure those hands would be good at given how good a massage they could give.  
If they travelled a little lower they’d be on his ass, and then forwards, slowly round his hips, they’d find their way onto his crotch. And Frank could stroke him slowly through his jeans, palming him as he grew harder and flushed and then drop down on his knees and undo his belt and zipper before pulling down his jeans, lick his way up Gerard’s thigh and so close, so close, and Gerard would feel the hot, wet pressure of Frank’s mouth on his –

“Okay, if you could sit down for me, I can start cutting your hair now” Frank asked, slicing his way through Gerard’s daydream, bemused by the expression on the older man’s face.  
Gerard flushed bright red and ducked his head, keeping his eyes on the floor. Thank fuck he hadn’t popped a boner, which would be fucking embarrassing.

Gerard didn’t look up, too embarrassed to see Frank confused expression staring down at him, keeping his eyes on his hands in his lap as he heard the _snip, snip, snick_ of scissors slicing off chunks of his hair.

A while later, Gerard heard Frank put down the scissors, and out of the corner of his eye, saw him stretch and reach for some product on a shelf. His shirt rode up exposing twin birds tattooed into his hip bones, and what Gerard would give to be able to pull Frank close and lick his way –

For fuck _sake_ , Gerard thought. _Grannies, think of old, Granny boobs and old men’s crotches._

Frank advanced towards the chair again, a put of gel in his hands, undid the lid and dipped his fingers into the pot, lathering it onto his hands, and then artfully styling Gerard’s hair into a messy, but good looking do.

Gerard regarded himself in the mirror. His previously black hair had turned to a shocking white, closely cut to his head, but not shaved. It highlighted his cheekbones and made his face seem thinner than the long, black had, and also made his head feel lighter than it had in a while, whether that was just the weight of his hair being gone or something about having his hair done professionally making him less stressful.

Gerard thought it was a combination, and probably a little bit of Frank too.

“You like it?” Frank actually looked worried as though Gerard would say no.

“Fuck yeah man, what… how did you… thanks man, this is awesome,” Gerard smiled at Frank, forgetting to be self-conscious without his fringe.

Frank helped Gerard up and took a step closer to undo Gerard’s gown. He shook it off and folded it over his arm, before walking back downstairs. Gerard followed him down the uneven staircase and waited for Frank to hand him back his jacket.

He got the required number of bills out of his wallet before folding it back and putting it back into his back pocket.  
“Hey, umm, I have a show, with… standing in for a guitarist in a friend’s band,” Frank stammered a little, “You, uh, want to come?”

_Fuck yeah._

“Yeah, I’ll come, wanna, umm, you friends with Mikey?”

“Yeah, little Mikeyway” Frank smirked a little, “That skinny fucker can hold his drink.”

“Yeah, he can.” Gerard needed to hear this story. “Anyway, text him the address and we’ll be there, okay?”

“Sounds cool.”

  
Gerard immediately went into the bathroom in his hotel suite and ran himself a bath. Fuck this, he needed to get Frank off his mind and there was only one way to do that.

Once he was satisfied he wouldn’t burn his skin off or something equally as drastic when he got in the bath, he turned off the taps and dropped himself into the tub.

Instantly, he felt his muscles relax and the cold that had seeped in on the walk home leave his body.

He leaned back and rubbed at a twitched in his shoulder, sloshing water everywhere.

The thing Gerard loved about hotels is you could make as much mess and you wanted but you wouldn’t have to clean up. It was the same reason he loved eating at other people’s houses and at restaurants.

Also, he had decided, he liked getting his hair done professionally. Other than the hot guys, it was done well and there wasn’t any dye staining his sink or hair covering his clothes or bathroom floor.  
And the fact that the guy that had just done his hair was really hot.

Fuck, he was good looking, and the way his hands had moved through Gerard’s hair. That guy must have a very lucky girl at home.

Gerard felt himself grow harder at the thought of what Frank’s hands could do to his body, make him come undone in a matter of minutes and he almost stopped himself before thinking, _fuck it, I’m only gonna see him, what, once, maybe twice more?_

Gerard slipped his hands down his body, rubbing at his hip bones, and feather touching his dick, before wrapping his hand round in a firm grasp and twisting his wrist a little.  
The heat of the water and the grip of his hand suddenly turned into Frank mouth in Gerard’s mind as Gerard imagined the smaller man compacted at the bottom of the bathtub palm himself through wet jeans and licking his way up Gerard’s shaft slowly.

Gerard panted, jerking his dick faster as he imagined Frank’s tongue against his cock, and how his lip ring would feel, hot from the steam from the water and Frank’s body heat, how the suction would feel and he came, gasping for breath, and whispered Frank’s name unwillingly, as his body arched and relaxed its way through the orgasm and then through the aftershocks.

The bar was crowded and hot, alcohol and sweat was pouring into Gerard’s nose as he sat with Mikey and his English girlfriend, Alicia, watching the band up onstage.  
The singer was enthusiastic, and threw himself at the crowd, which bounced right back off him, feeding the energy back threefold into the band. They weren’t bad actually, a bit too heavy, but entertaining the watch. It wasn’t the singer that caught Gerard’s eye though, it was the bassist, and her insane back-bends. He wished he had brought his sketchbook to the show – even though he knew that would look very, very sad – just so he could sketch her.

Gerard nursed his coke through this act and the next until the band Frank was subbing for came on.  
Frank looked completely different from when Gerard had seen him earlier, instead of a white, professional shirt and jeans, the man wore black, skinnies and a ripped Misfits top, which revealed more than it covered. A leather jacket hung off his hips, tied over his waist, black chucks and a studded belt.  
Gerard pretty much felt the drool fall from his mouth and Mikey glanced over at him and laughed, whispering something to Alicia, who also looked over at Gerard and giggled, who was now scowling determinedly _not_ at them.

Frank, still tuning his guitar, squinted up through the lighting and scanned his way through the crowd, and finally his gaze landed on Gerard and Mikey’s table, he smiled a little smile and looked down.  
Gerard noticed Mikey’s smirk in his direction and his raised eyebrows and Gerard drew his eyebrows in together in a way that said _what?! Please go fuck off or make out with your girlfriend, and leave me to my lonely self_ to which Mikey’s eyebrows replied _didn’t say anything, and I will thanks_ , and did actually turn round and start eating poor Alicia’s face. Not that she minded.

Gerard shuddered.

That was not something he wanted to witness. Like, ever.

“I’m going to get more drinks,” Gerard said, “I’m sure you guys don’t need anything, you’ll be fine on each other’s spit right?” So he was a little huffy, so what?

He was literally going to be alone forever.

“Gee…” Came the call from behind him, he knew what it meant.

“Fuck you Mikey, I know, stay away from the alcohol, I’m fine,” Gerard really was in bad mood now.

He plonked himself down on a bar stool and waved the barman over,  
“A coke please, nothing else,” He shouted, sliding a fiver over the bar, before turning back to face the stage.

Gerard had missed the transformation of Frank the nice but slightly awkward and shy hairdresser into the thrashing, hot, guitarist up on stage, but he wasn’t going to complain about the show.  
He watched as Frank’s face contorted in a way that almost looked sexual, his mouth dropped open and head thrown back, groaning out backing vocals into the mic when required.  
He also was very fucking good at guitar, fingers not missing a note, skidding all over his stark white guitar as he threw himself all over stage right and at the crowd.

The set passed too quickly for Gerard’s liking, his drink sat untouched on the bar, and he wished more than ever he had a camera or his sketchbook to capture the look on Frank’s face when he played, to be able to imprint and immortalise the look of ecstasy that Gerard was sure Frank would only ever replicate in bed.

When the band made their way off stage, Gerard turned back to the bar, downed his coke and then walked back to his booth with Mikey and Alicia, who then started questioning him about his career as a comic artist.

It would have supplied conversation for a while at least, until Mikey had shot Alicia a look that clearly meant, no, not now, and she stopped asking questions.

Gerard was fine thanks, he didn’t have any problems talking about his job, and he loved his job. He didn’t, on the other hand, love what had happened at work.

“Hey, dude, I didn’t think you would make it!” came the enthusiastic shout from behind Gerard, who span so fast in his chair he nearly gave himself whiplash. Frank, drenched in sweat and a guitar case slung across his back, beamed down at Gerard.

He had changed his top as his one had somehow become lost in their set and now had his leather jacket on.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Gee basically dragged us out the door,” Mikey smiled at Frank and got up and gave him a manly hug, because Mikey, in all his geeky, wiry glory, didn’t do anything but _manly._ Gerard shook his head in amusement.

Frank’s eyes glinted, flashing darker, at the comment, but Gerard marked it down to the lighting.

“Yeah, you were awesome! Holy fuck,” Gerard stood up, because Alicia was and he didn’t want to be the only one left sitting.  
Frank walked over and wrapped his arms round him in a hug, and said in his ear, “I’m glad you liked it,” before backing off, leaving Gerard shaking a little, and confused.

“Hey, Frank, can you give Gee a lift back to the hotel, I’m a little over the limit and Alicia doesn’t have a car,” Mikey asked, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

“If he can bare to wait a little longer, we’re just finishing putting the shit away and then I should be able to give him a lift yeah.”

“I can help if you want? I haven’t been drinking,” Gerard offered, shrinking back when he saw Frank looking him up and down critically.

“If you think you can carry the stuff Mr. Hotshot-Comic-Author, I don’t wanna be responsible for breaking your writing and drawing hand when you can’t carry the stuff and being swarmed by fangirls and boys with murderous intent,” Frank shot back, and Gerard thought he saw Frank wink, bit couldn’t be sure.

Gerard followed Frank backstage to where the band had dumped all their guitars and amps, and picked up one of the heavier looking ones, with a little difficulty, and asked Frank where they were meant to put them.

Frank looked over shocked that Gerard had managed to pick up the amp, and ran over to help him, seeing him struggling a little. The balanced the weight out between them and then Frank started pulling him through the small backstage and out the back door to waiting van.

They did this a couple of times until all the equipment had been moved into the van, Gerard waited until Frank had waved off his friends and then walked to the car with him.  
Frank unlocked it and then opened his door, sliding in, to which Gerard followed suit, slamming the door a little harder than intended.

Frank shoved the key into the ignition and the car spluttered to life, and slid out of the parking space and coughed its way down the street in the vague direction of Gerard’s hotel.

“Why you in England then? Decided to take a break?” Frank asked, keeping his eyes on the road and shifting gear, hand brushing Gerard’s thigh.

“Something,” Gerard took a breath, “Something happened at work, my boss… he liked me a bit too much.”  
Gerard looked down at his hands again, folding them in his lap, but felt Frank’s hand on his thigh again, but more purposeful this time.

“He’s dick, I hope you pressed charges,” Frank said, tipping Gerard’s head up, to face him, “You deserve the best, okay.”  
Gerard smiled softly to himself and met Frank’s eyes, felt his hand brushing over his cheek and lent forward out of nowhere getting the courage to say, “So you then?” in Frank’s ear, lips lingering before pulling away.

Frank’s eyes definitely did darken then, and Gee smirked.

The light they were waiting at turned green and Frank sped forwards as fast as his shitty car would let him and Gerard let his hand drop into Frank’s lap, stroking up his thigh, seriously turned on and seriously hoping he wasn’t misreading the situation.

Fuck that would be bad, very, very, very bad.

They pulled up at Gerard’s hotel and parked, getting the lift up to the suite Gerard was staying, shooting covert glances at each other, and when the door to Gerard’s room was finally shut, they had their hands over each other in an instant.

“Fuck you man, you’re pretty face, I didn’t even think you’d look at me,” Frank gasped out between Gerard’s kisses.

And Gerard had been right; Frank’s hands were fucking amazing. They snaked down to his ass, and squeezed before trailing up his torso, and tweaking Gerard’s nipples. They fell back onto the bed, and Frank climbed over onto Gerard’s front, sitting down on his crotch and taking hold of Gerard’s wrists and lifting them above his head as he explored Gerard’s mouth with his tongue, Gerard being powerless to stop it, and loving the show of dominance.

Frank trailed his mouth off Gerard’s, who panted and whined at the lack of contact, but the whines turned to moans when Frank started to suck at Gerard’s neck.  
That just felt so fucking good.  
And then Frank ground down with his ass into Gerard’s crotch and Gerard bucked up following the friction, becoming undone underneath Frank.

“Frank, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he gasped out, “fuck, you feel so good.”

They scrabbled at each other’s clothes until they were naked and grinding together, and then Frank asked, “Top or bottom?” and Gerard replied a quick gasped out “bottom, please, I need you in me now” in between moans and groans.

Frank smirked and trailed kisses and open mouth licks down Gerard’s body and up his thighs, before pushing his fingers into his mouth and Gerard scrabbled to get off the bed and get the lube and condom from his suitcase, better to be prepared right?

He opened Frank’s mouth with a kiss, open and dirty, passing the lube over to him, lying back down on the bed.

Frank lubed up his fingers and pushed a single finger into Gerard, crocking it once it was in his, trying to find his prostate, and boy did he know once he had found it.

Soon it was two fingers, then three and then Gerard was gasping at Frank to _get in him already_ and Frank happily complied and lined himself up, Gerard waiting and ready and feeling so fucking empty without him.

Frank slowly pushed into Gerard, gasping out his name, and Gerard felt so stretched, and the pleasure he felt once they were fucking was beyond anything he’d felt before.

It was over too fast, Gerard came first, after Frank found his prostate, continually hitting it, making Gerard shudder.

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, convulsing and tightening around Frank, who shortly followed, and then they lay spent on the bed in their own mess, just breathing together.

“So,” Frank was the first to break the silence, “I kind of really, really like you.” He smiled at Gerard, who was resting on his chest,

“Yeah, me too,” Gerard replied, “Really, really.”

And he yawned, slowly drifting off in the arms of a man he knew he was safe with.


End file.
